Blood Far Beyond Dry
by Vosueh
Summary: While the older Pines twins leave fresh from a camping trip in the cursed forest of Flatwoods, Dipper get his hands on a mysterious golden pocket watch that begins to wake him in the night with nightmares and eerie ticking. Yet what began as nightmares turns into real-life injuries, leading Dipper and Mabel to suspect just who the culprit is. [ BillDip ]
1. Rabbit Heart

It was a hollow world, standing here alone on an endless expansion of water. Almost as if there was a surface just a centimeter before the water's face, Dipper stood above it, keeping his ankles dry but not the tops of his surprisingly warm feet. In fact, if it wasn't for this dream's eerie concentration on nothing, he would have grown curious about the almost bath-like warmth of the azure waters lapping childishly at his feet, encouraging him to take a step and fear not falling through.

After curling his toes several times, he concluded that yes, he was walking on water. Thus, he took a step, eyes locked on the water as if it were to give in a few moments, but once it trustfully kept its consistency, he found his eyes drifting along the vagary of friendly waves kissing the backs of his heel and sloshing between his toes.

He came to conclude that this dream was not only disinteresting, but also creepily consistent - dreams are more or less an awkward jumble of incoherent relationships between notions and concepts that have no business together. They never stay as life-like as the one before him was staying now; thus, the teen willed his concentration to summon something. He imagined his cherry red tent out in the camping trip he'd just come home from, closing his eyes and imagining the way the tall grass licked up against the tent's walls, creating fantastic shadows when it lit during the night. His sister and he had camped out at Flatwoods in search of its monster, an infamous one-time sight never to be seen again. Actually, they haven't seen it either; rather, they spent the entirety of their week there on energetic hikes or explorations, and while his sister deduced the legend to be bunk and lap up the forest as a plain old camping trip, Dipper hid the fact that he found a golden pocket watch a few days in, in rather sharp condition for the forest's treatment, save for the locking being sealed closed.

While his eyes were still shut, working at the conjuration of the camp to summon before him, a shiver embraced his neck and zipped through his spine. That locked pocket watch was the reason he convinced his sister to book it out of the vacation early, always waking him in his tent in the middle of the night with rushed ticking, only to taper off when the teen felt something push onto his chest, always while he was laying down. He wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night, and by the time he left, he had with him only a few restful nights.

Shaking his head at his own distraction, he opened his eyes to the fathomed forest - at least the one he expected, for his surroundings hadn't change a bit since he first shut his eyes. Clearly dishearten, squinting to the water's horizon against an almost black navy sky, he took a step forward and nearly jump when his foot came in contact with something cold.

Head snapped down to the innocent warm water still coyly dancing around his toes, he brought his foot up slowly to just barely see a golden glint.

The pocket watch.

Stumbling back and yanking in from the ground, he turned it over in his hands to investigate. He hadn't meant to summon it; in fact it was the last thing he wished to see in his dreams. Feeling along the design's metal grooves of a wolf standing in a rearing posture more common of a horse, he breathed a sigh of relief when he concluded it wasn't ticking. He played his fingers around the edges, feeling for any slight heartbeat of the watch's machinery ticking to life, yet as he found his thumb pressing against the fixed seal, all it took was the slightest push and the lock opened up as if it was never fixed shut in the first place.

A slight gasp of surprise barely past his lips before it morphed into a silent shriek, as the watch violently began a speeded tempo of ticking that echoed in the world around him. Dropping the watch, he turned to run. But the ticking still rang as clear as it did when he was holding it, no matter the distance he put between. Nevertheless, fear kept his feet in motion, only to have the kind waters betray him as a slip brought him down. Barely catching himself with his hands, it took coming face to face with the water to realize it had tinted black during his run to match the darkened skies. Before a confused expression could find its way onto his face, the feeling of a burningly warm hand gripped into his side and threw him over onto his back, earning a choke from the teen as his back met the surface with bursting pain.

He would've screamed, but that entity's weight pushed down on his chest making the air not fit into his lungs as it did moments ago. He couldn't even make out his aggressor; all he saw above him was an incredibly dark mass pressing into his ribs so hard he half expected to hear a crack. The weight only grew to taunt that threshold of breakage, and just as his ribs began a painful give the teen jolted up, in a chilled sweat dampening his bed.

Lumps of air swallowed in hurry did not ease the soreness in his lungs, nor did it drop his heart rate still panicked from the faint ticking he heard in his room. Although much softer and slower than from the nightmare's replica, it still was haunting. Pushing off the bed before any phantom force can press him back onto his back, he swept back his damp bangs with a cool hand before getting up in search of the watch. It laid in his backpack, still unpack from coming home from the trip yesterday. Although he intentionally left if back at Flatwoods, he discovered it back into his bag upon unpacking at home. Damn cursed objects.

As soon as he felt the cool metal upon reaching a hand inside to retrieve it, the ticking ceased. But that didn't save it from being taken out and away from the safety of his bag.

/

By the time the sun was rising, he was dressed and lounging along the couch of their family home, playing along the grooves of the rearing wolf on the watch's cover. Nicking the lock, it flew open with ease; after the dream the watch wasn't stuck shut, giving Dipper a fine view of the detailed Roman numeral layout stuck at twelve for both hands, hinting that it was never changed from its factory layout. It only served to make the teen pinch his brow in frustration, for he knew he heard it ticking. It can't be ticking whilst staying at the twelfth hour. It didn't make any sense.

"What are you doing up so early?" His sister yawned from behind him, jolting his hand to stuff the watch beneath the couch cushion before she could fully wake up and realize what he was doing.

"I-I couldn't sleep," he began, grasping for an excuse. Mabel rubbed her eyes before flopping down beside him, providing his excuse for him, "is it about this summer? We don't have to take a year off if you don't want to, Dip."

Of course that's what she thinks he's up about. In fact, rather than fiddling with a cursed object he fished out of some haunted woods, he should've been focusing on their mutual ultimatum to either go off to their college this summer or take a year break and get a grip on adulthood up at Gravity Falls. California is nice and all, but too much hustle and not enough adventure left the twins oddly unsatisfied. So when their parents asked if they wanted this year off, collecting a few more memories of their teen years up with their grunkle, they weren't sure what to choose. The Flatwoods trip was intended to be their last burst of mysterious adventure before breaking it to their parents they're going to college, but after the rush of adventure's adrenaline, the enthrallment of cursed objects, and the undeniable comfort only a forest seems to bring, the two twins agreed that this was a decision needing revisitation.

"No, no. It's not that, I really do want to. I'm just worried since we were two lucky kids who could've gotten killed." A sigh followed, for although he was preaching against going back to the Mystery Shack, he couldn't get the idea out of his head. Not with the pocket watch refreshing his curiosity for all things supernatural.

"Come on, we're way more experienced now! If it's danger you're worried about, then you're overthinking things," she encouraged, ruffling his hair as if he was a little kid confessing a fear of the dark.

"Am I? Who knows what we'll get into!" He voice did not sound one bit convincing, and Mabel was noticing despite the obvious sleep still heavy in her expression.

"I admit there's probably trouble ahead. But I know we've both been through enough trouble together to know we'll come out okay. So you gotta tell me, Dip; do you want to spend a year at Gravity Falls?"

A whole year. Not one of the short exciting summers that had littered their teens, a whole year of exploration and supernatural and even more cursed objects that'll make his ticking watch look like a toddler's toy. Despite the logic in him burning a rejection into his throat, when he opened his mouth, all he could say was "yes, let's go to Gravity Falls."

/

Needless to say their parents weren't surprised, and on the day they left they smiled and waved them off as if it was just one more summer, one more vacation. But their bags were heavier than all those summer send offs, packed thickly with nearly everything from their rooms save for the furniture itself. So much, in fact, that Stan and Soos had to help the twins bringing in all the luggage to their joint room, only for the twins to awkwardly admit this year they wouldn't be sharing a room and rock-paper-scissoring for the attic. Dipper won, yet that didn't dampen his twin's excitement as she bounced off to the spare room with Soos trailing behind her with all the bags.

The first night was the hardest. Not because this was the first time he had the room all to himself, but rather enduring all the hours he spent unpacking whilst Stan grilled him about his work hours; he's lucky his grunkle was so swept up in business to not notice the look of confused discomfort that flashed over the teen's face when he reached into his suitcase and found the golden pocket watch. He'd left it under the couch in California, hoping that if one move out of its state wasn't enough to stop it, than a second one is. Nevertheless, here it was, with him once more. He tossed it as casually as one can toss a cursed, stalking object into his nightstand, with Stan still too preoccupied with his jabber to notice.

It was the night though, with that watch in his dresser, that haunted him. After the awful nightmare the day before the decision to spend the year at the Mystery Shack, not a single tick was heard, nor dreams disrupted. Perhaps it was angry for having to move once more, because what it did that night reminded Dipper of the reason he left it behind in the first place.

All he heard was raindrops. No sight, no floor, just darkness and raindrops all around him. They hit his skin warm like the innocent waves of the former nightmare, but they had a sinister feel to them. It made the air feel emptier than it already was, forcing shivers he couldn't stop despite his relatively warm temperature. Only when a sliver of hope opened up along the horizon did he realize he shivered out of fear, but with the golden rays leaking through the distance he started rushing towards the skyline. He wanted out of this darkness so bad, the sound of raindrops were almost worse than the ticking. The raindrops drowned his thoughts and muted the world into static downpour, but he had an innate feeling that golden sliver of color was the solution. But before he could even get close, those invisible hands punched onto his ribs to throw him on his back with a smack, taking him so off guard that he hadn't had time to even shield his skull from earning some damage. Splitting pain dwarfing any migraine he's ever had throbbed in the back of his head, earning a pained hiss as his hand reflexively came behind his skull to cradle it. Poor move, however, as the entity came forward to straddle his chest and wrapping those burning hands around the base of his neck for a light choke, emphasized by his lung-crushing weight.

With the pain enraging him more so than scaring, Dipper opened his mouth to spit a curse to the monster only to stop abruptly when he heard it. That dreaded ticking.

He snapped his eyes shut and the raindrops disappeared. But when he opened them, mildly hopeful, he was mortified and shaking in fear to find himself in his attic room, pressed down onto the bed by an impossibly dark figure rivaling stygian blue. The tense ticks were fast yet muted, indicating their presence from within his nightstand. He couldn't breathe and he could feel the monster smiling at him despite both him and the room being too dark to decipher any features from. The entirety of the teen's body was paralyzed, but not from fear - although horror did freeze his veins - but rather, he was literally paralyzed. Not one of his limbs he command to protest the monster sitting on his chest moved, but just as his head began to daze and the brink of consciousness threaten to slip away, it was all gone. The monster, the ticking, the paralysis. All that remained was the very real terror and the very real pain aching along his neck and throat, complimented by the throb behind his head.

"Wha-?" Was all that he managed, checking his phone and finding it's only been a mere few minutes since he's fallen asleep. That was more than enough for him to leap out from his bed with the comforter cloaked around his aching body and ditch his now-eerie room to seek asylum with Mabel, regardless of the fact it was one in the morning. Although caution yielded him to shut the door quietly behind him to guarantee Stan wouldn't awake, he went straight to dive onto his slumbering twin's queen bed, landing with an "-Oomph!" There was a little squeak of surprise as Mabel shot up, a scolding dying on her lips for Dipper waking her up when she saw his rattled appearance. Paler than usual with bangs sticking together with sweat still fresh on his forehead, her tired groggy expression quickly transformed into concern.

"...What's going on, bro bro?" She was trying hard to stifle the sound of sleep in her voice when she said that, but she couldn't resist rubbing her eyes a bit.

"I-I don't know... I couldn't move... There was rain and darkness and ticking-" he abruptly cut himself off; Mabel isn't suppose to know about that damn watch. Luckily, his rambling was just incoherent enough for it to go over her head, and she backtracked.

"Dip, slow down, was this a night terror or something?" She proposed, a comforting hand rubbing his shoulder.

"I don't think so. I had this odd dream with this dark man suffocating me... But when I awoke, I swear he was still there."

Her eyes immeasurably enlarged in alarm, before he continued, "not anymore, though! He was sitting on top my chest, and I couldn't breathe. He was only gone when I began feeling lightheaded." Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he barely brushed the base of his skull to feel the sting of the fresh bruise.

"Did he say anything?"

He sighed. "No, but... I just had this crazy feeling he was smiling at me. Like he enjoyed watching me suffocate."

Her brow knitted together, and she drew out a hiss, perhaps of realization or perhaps of protection. "Enjoying your suffering? Now that sounds familiar."

Before Dipper could toss her a confused look, it hit him. Terrifying dreams. The only creature they knew who controlled dreams was-

"Bill Cipher" she finished the thought for him, whilst he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration for not realizing sooner. Of course it was the dream demon that was giving him nightmares. The same demon that the twins ruined the world-dominating plans of and set him back decades of work. Sooner or later he was going to get back at them, and it seemed now was the time he decided to collect his debt.

"We've gotta talk to him somehow. He can't be doing this-"

"Talk?!" Mabel cut him off. "If you talk to him he'll just trick you into some deal! We gotta find a ward against him instead."

"A ward? And what happens when he breaks it? Did you forget the whole 'I'm-a-being-of-pure-energy' spiel he gave us?"

"He's a demon! If we ward against him, he'll get bored eventually and move on. Besides, how would we even go about talking to him when he chokes you in your dreams?" Any concern she had was replaced with the scolding she almost started with.

"That's easy, a summoning-"

"What?!" She cut in almost immediately.

"Dipper, it is late, and you're probably not in your right head, because we are NOT ever going to talk about summoning Bill. You need some rest, and in the morning we'll talk about some wards we can put up and have done by dinner, now how does that sound?"

He groaned. The rejection was too fast for him to even mention the handful of safeguards and fall backs he'll have if things turn sour. But while he still felt it was a matter to be discussed, she was right in saying that one in the morning wasn't the time to do so. Before a begrudging reply could be given, she laid back down and patted the space next to her, to which he filled eagerly as his aching chest and throbbing head begged for rest.

"Just sleep on it, Dip." Her voice offered softly, contrasting the chastising he received.

"Fine, fine." He groaned as his sore ribs protested his burrowing into Mabel's blankets. And with that, he managed to mummer a goodnight and fall asleep with no ticking, no nightmares, and no further disturbances for the rest of the night.

/

The next day they neglected to say a word to Stan about this. Mabel was determined to show off her adult responsibility of taking charge, whilst Dipper kept quiet more out of fear that his grunkle will interrogate him into not only admitting this wasn't the first night, but that he had a cursed object IN the room where he slept. Luckily, it was all too convenient the nightmares ranked up in intensity once they got to Gravity Falls (Bill's stronger influence here was all Dipper could blame), thus his sister never bothered inquiring if anything similar to this has happened before.

So that was why his sister sat diligently at the table with focus almost unnatural for her, studying wards in one of their many supernatural books whilst scribbling needed ingredients down with her purple glitter pen. On the other side sat Dipper, noting his own list from the second journal on Cipher's summoning ritual. Sleeping on it didn't change his mind on talking to the demon about this, yet it did allow him to realize he probably shouldn't bring it up around Mabel. Thus, when she sent him off later that day with a list of needed plants (and detailed descriptions) to find in the forest before lunch, Dipper brought along his own list with a few needed summoning items stashed in his satchel.

After throwing on his hat with a wince where it sat against his bruise, he waved out with Mabel throwing him a cheerful "Have fun!"

With one hand holding her book to her face and another stirring a serving of Mabel juice, not a notice went by to the already full bag he was supposed to stash his findings in. Although his steps were gentle in the shack to avoid the clanking of his supplies from giving away his plan, once outside he picked up the pace towards the nearest clearing lodged in the thick forest. Despite the last time he was in these woods was nearly a year ago, his confidence in his direction didn't falter to the familiar patterns of ferns or bushes. The clearing wasn't too far from the shack, but as with the weight of his satchel already hindering him and the slight worry of leaving his sibling in the dark about his plan, the trip felt longer than it was. After all, if he were to get hurt (for he wouldn't expect any less of a demon) than there will be no way for Mabel to know or rescue him. Nor Stan, or Soos, or anyone really. In fact, he was falling back on his two safeguards combined with the assumption Bill would be more willing to talk civil rather than go choke-happy like in his dreams.

After the slight density of trees opened up and informed Dipper he had reach the clearing, he took no time taking in the atmosphere and hurried to take out his summoning supplies. Lucky for him, his one-too-many candles didn't break during the journey, allowing his ring to look aesthetically correct, despite them being a mixed of both new and previously lit.

A tarp or sheet wouldn't have fit inside the satchel, so instead he took out two rolls of masking tape to make the ritual's sigil. It stuck to the ground poorly and he did his best to continuously tear and replace the sections of tape to bear as close resemblance to a circle as possible, but as long as it was present that quality shouldn't impact the magic itself.

After the struggle of aligning the tape properly onto the dirt ground, the next ordeal was lighting the candles. While the candles themselves were fairly compliant, Dipper couldn't quite keep them lit with the wind hushing out the newfound flames.

Yet as all tasks do come to an end; at one point all candles remained jointly lit, surprising the teen to scramble for the note he stashed with the spell on it.

In desperation to finish before the wind snatched his candle's light away, he hurried the words out so fast that the few silent seconds afterwards sunk a pit of dread down his throat. Oh god. He was really doing this. The ritual was complete, the wind was (now eerily) silent, and the candle flames were as still as death, ceasing their flickering as Dipper finished the last syllable of the ancient incantation.

Blinking, the lush greens and emeralds of the forests were turning dreary grey before his eyes, and the whole forest seemed to have paused without truly ever stopping. What once was azure skies tinged with smeary clouds evolved into a bleak runny charcoal, with an eye slit growing in its center. Then, there was a laugh. The same dark laugher that gives him shivers to this day just imagining it. The psychotic laughter echoed through what the wind once filled, blurring the laws of reality until bolded lines spawned from nowhere to connect into a triangle cozy around the growing eye. Then, with an abrupt cut in laughter so sudden it made Dipper jump and clutch a knife in his palm (his first and foremost safeguard, with the second being a simple water bottle to drench the candles and cut the ritual short need be) and winced slightly at the interruption. To further twist reality and defy what little logic stood, the connected lines spontaneously generated the one and only Bill Cipher into existence.

Dipper couldn't help but to drop his eyes down to the floor; his ribs and head were protesting in fear of further injury, aching dully for the teen to do something. But before he could, it was the dream demon to break the silence.

"Well now, aren't you the last person I expected a summoning from," the demon shifted lower to hover not much higher than the teen, and while Dipper really should be keeping his eyes on the demon floating before him, he kept them locked on the static grey floor. "Well I guess being back in town and all, you figured to reconnect with some old friends, hm?" The demon continued, without a note of the intimidating darkness his dreams have been haunting him with.

Something was off. Dipper's expression hasn't changed, save for him slightly biting his lower lip in distress of confronting the demon. Said demon thinking he's here to "reconnect" as if he wasn't the one who reached out in the first place. Yet in the flesh, in his usual triangle appearance, he didn't carry nearly any of the threat and pressure as he did in the dreams. In his dreams, it seemed as though Bill was going to choke the air out of him after squeezing every drop of fear through his eyes, until his cheeks are sleek with tears and soul was broken enough for him to devour. But now, he's rolling with his default demeanor, and it was already giving the teen shivers.

"You called me up for a reason, kid? I always took you for a straightforward kind of guy-"

"I want you to stop these games, Bill" Dipper cut in, bringing up his eyes to meet the demon whilst stifling the evident fear coursing through him.

"Games? If this summoning's a game, then you started it, Pine Tree," the demon retorted, looking a little less than displeased. "Besides, why are you looking like I left a dead dog at your door? If I recall, it was you who screwed me over last we met."

Dipper's eyebrows knitted, with confusion starting to take place where terror had resided. "T-The dreams? Don't act like that wasn't your act!"

Luckily, the demon seemed to drop a bit of the angry in favor of annoyance. "Dreams? I've been visiting plenty but none of yours, Pine Tree. Been too preoccupied with some demonic business," he argued, as if he was too good to haunt the teen's dreams.

"Does the business happen to involve waking people up to you choking them?" The teen still didn't believe what Bill was selling. But his accusation was met with chilling laughter.

"Pine Tree, my business is with a rival demon that's recently popped up, not with you. What makes you think I'm the only entity that can manipulate dreams?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, still sore enough to remind him of the assault, Dipper averted his glance. "B-but there was something that woke me up, and paralyzed me in real life..." He began, yet without any memory of those things even being in Bill's range of usual powers. He was met with another laugh, this one less intimidating and more amused.

"Let me guess, was there something on top of you and you couldn't quite breathe? Sounds like sleep paralysis, kid. Not a product of mines but I sure wish I came up that that ingenious nightmare!"

With the pitch of his voice, it almost seemed like he heard the best joke of the year at Dipper's expense, but the teen wasn't going to give up yet.

"I know what sleep paralysis is! I've read about it before... It just... Didn't cross my mind..." He defended, with an unchanging certainty. The demon only threw him a filler counter, "What reason would there be for it to be supernatural, Pine Tree? Last I checked your human bodies screws themselves over by causing sleep paralysis in the first place."

Although he hate to admit it, he was right. At certain points of the night your body paralyzes itself to make sure it doesn't act out its own dreams, but if it gets mistaken when you wake up, it'll keep you paralyzed with dream-like hallucinations seeming to sit on your chest and suffocate you.

The possibility made him shake his head; that couldn't be just it.

"Can't believe you called me up here just to whine about a perfectly non-supernatural dream. Pine Tree, you used to be so interesting-"

"There were bruises!" Dipper cut in at his realization, and rather than getting angered at being cut off for the second time, the demon seemed mildly surprised.

"Bruises?" He echoed, indicating his interest meant Dipper better keep talking.

"It pushed me back and sat on my ribs-" he began, but abruptly stopped himself when the demon gave a slight gesture to his shirt indicating he wanted proof. Swallowing a bit of his pride, he set down the knife by his bottle of water. He then discarded the fleece jacket that came up to cover the sides of his neck, and before he could reach to tug at the base of his t-shirt, a slight tsk of surprise came from the demon. Nervously, Dipper brought his eyes up, forgetting the slight bruising that decorated the base of his neck. Rather than meeting his gaze, Bill had his eyes locked on his neck, in a way that looked less than analytical. It certainly didn't give the teen anymore comfort as his weakening hands gave a slow tug at his shirt's hem, pulling it over his head and knocking the trademark hat he wore off.

At the slight gentle gasp the demon gave (sounding less surprised and more curious for the teen's liking) Dipper refrained from the little spark that urged him to fold his arms over his exposed chest, which would serve only to obscure the purple blotches ghosting the cage of his ribs from his front to his sides.

A flicker of irritation speckled the demon's eye, and before Dipper could even think it was directed at him, a shallow uncharacteristic voice mused, "I'm surprised another supernatural thought it could lay its hands on you."

The completely unexpected comment threw Dipper over the edge, as he grabbed his shirt and pressed it against his front in embarrassment, not even bothering to put it on. "What does that mean?" His voice had a tremor ghosting it, despite the teen not wanting to seem as clueless as he currently was. Who else- or what else- could honesty do something like this?

"It means if you were able to give me trouble, not a lot of monsters would want to start something with you, kid," the demon explain hesitantly, trying to pin a scapegoat. The two both knew when one clicked in his head, because Dipper could feel a knowing smile twinkle in his eye. It wasn't comforting one bit.

"Hey, Pine Tree, you said it hurts you in your dreams right? Not a lot of creatures got that power besides me, and I think I know what's been giving you a hard time." The demon cooed this revolution in sinister way that stifled away relief the answer could've given the stressed teen. Nevertheless, Dipper edged a bit back, clutching the shirt tighter to his chest as if it were to provide protection from the unsettling atmosphere Bill began radiating.

"What is it? Is it demonic?" Dipper inquired after Bill didn't continue.

There was a scoff. "Kid, demonic? You'd be dressed in more than a few bruises if it was even close to being a demon."

"Huh? Then what is it...?" Bill's tone was seriously worrying him; Dipper had no clue why he was beating around the bush so much.

"Pine Tree," an eerie atmosphere fell over the already frightening Mindscape, earning a fresh layer of chills creeping along the teen's flesh, "...since when did I give information away for free?"

All hope had fell, with Dipper's face growing pale and hands losing feeling, loosening the white-knuckled grip on his t-shirt and dropping it to the ground. It took all his willpower to squeeze his eyes shut and steady his breath. He was so stupid. Of course this was going to happen. He got so far, after avoiding Bill for all these years, and now he's out in the middle of nowhere summoning the king of manipulation.

A shaking hand swept along his hair, before reaching behind his skull to feel along the bruise, only serving to remind him why he ought to stay out of supernatural business.

"I-I think I should go..." He started out with a tremor rattling his body, but he immediately corrected it to cover up any weakness the demon could take a jab at, "After all, you'll just twist this deal into some mess I'll have to clean up, so how about you let me go back to the real world now and-"

"I don't want much, Pine Tree. You have my word," as if it meant anything, he held up a hand mockingly as if taking an oath. "At least hear my request; I'm sure it'll be way better than whatever your plan is. Just deal with getting roughed up in your sleep? Good luck fighting it when you don't even know what it is." He pestered on, playing on Dipper's affinity for logic. And it was working; the teen didn't exactly have a plan past this. After coyly crossing his arms together and avoiding eye contact, Dipper finally caved, "Fine, Bill, what do you possibly want?"

The dream demon beamed. "Remember that demonic business I mentioned, the one with the rival? He's a demon always trying to take both my things and my power, so awhile back I banished him. But banishment only lasts so long, especially for demons, because now he's back, and he knows I'm here in Gravity Falls," there's was a wide gesture to the forest around them, "so all I need is your help luring him out, so I can confront him and throw him back into banishment. Easy enough, eh Pine Tree?"

In lieu of a response, the teen worried at his bottom lip, unsure of the tempting deal. After leaving the demon hanging for a few moments, Bill sighed and decided to sweeten the deal.

"Look, on top of this information, I'll also help you with your little problem myself; it shouldn't be too hard. As for your side of the deal, you just help me get rid of an entity with power rivaling mine, which takes out one more demon from the ball game. Less evil on Earth, less evil in your dreams, and so forth. What do say?" Without even taking the teen's input, the demon shoved forth a fiery blue hand, slightly waving to encourage him to shake.

Dipper's eyes locked with his hand, but he didn't shake it just yet. Perhaps it actually might be worth it. After all, his family doesn't have to know - it could just be him, taking a powerful demon off this world without risking anyone but himself. He'll be helping himself. He'll be helping everyone.

Before any second thoughts could take control, Dipper threw out his hand and shook the demon's, whom began a cackle just as the deal was sealed.

"Wonderful, Pine Tree! I take back my comment on you not being interesting!" The demon was ecstatic.

"Bill, you got what you want from me, now tell me what the hell is haunting my sleep." He cut in sharply, already unhappy thinking about being bait to lure out a demon. Yet it didn't dampen Bill's mood in the slightest.

"Easy, it's a forest nymph. Or a nymphus, since you believed it to be me, it must've been male, correct?" Dipper gave an unsteady nod and he continued, "Yes, well with all these woods, naturally more than a few pooled here. Seven, in fact. Usually keep to themselves, lest you did something to disturb them."

"Disturb? The nightmares did actually start after Mabel and I went on a trip to a pretty isolated forest. But it wasn't even anywhere near Gravity Falls, plus how could a forest spirit even have jurisdiction over dreams?" If the teen just made a deal for information, then he's gonna get his money's worth. Perhaps enough to add a few new pages to his own journal, which was admittedly pretty thin.

"Come on kid, the first major forest you've ever been to was this one, and you respected it fair enough. But if you went around disrupting some other nymph's forest, all they'll do is go around and tell these ones your misdeeds." There was a slight pause when he noticed the completely muddled expression of Dipper's face. "Look they may not be all too powerful, but if you spend enough time in their forest, they'll seed some power into you. So even halfway across the globe, they can mess with you, although it's usually more powerful the closer you are to the nymphs."

That did make sense since the nightmare last night was significantly a level higher than all the ones before. Perhaps it was taking the pocket watch out that disturbed them, and just when Dipper was going to ask again about the dreams, the demon continued. "Funny why they have dream powers, actually. You know, I can make deals with more than just humans," he was trailing off, but Dipper's imagination filled in the rest. The local nymphs struck up a deal for Bill to teach them to manipulate dreams. It's understandable, and he couldn't exactly judge, since he's standing here fresh from a deal for info himself.

"S-so how do we exactly stop them? Since you gave them that power, can't you take it away?" The question was in all seriousness, yet the demon laughed. "Pine Tree, that would violate my contract with them... However, this won't-"

Another inquiry died on the teen's lips when the demon fabricated a hole in the Mindscape, a dark vortex that if Dipper didn't know any better, was akin to a black hole. Reaching his hand into the singularity, the dream demon hummed absentmindedly before exclaiming an "ah!"

When his hand pulled out, the black hole suddenly collapsed out of existence with a few flickers of azure flames. Resting between his fingers was a little wooden charm of a rustic leaf, of which was either very old or carved by a child. Just as Dipper leaned in, eyes squinting to identify anything special about the charm, it was abruptly toss to the off-guard teen.

"Here, kid. For all your anti-nymph needs." Adjusting the inch-sized trinket, he ran his eyes along the details until he decided that it was objectively satisfactory for Bill's end. Slowly, he dragged his eyes up, only to nearly jump back when Bill was inches from his face.

"Bill! What the hell?" He squeaked undignified.

"Your shirt's still off." The emotion behind his voice was neither amused nor annoyed. In fact, it wasn't quite a tone Dipper has heard from him, yet he still scrambled to throw on his shirt and fix his hat back on.

As if that last statement never came from the demon, Dipper eager shifted the topic. "W-what about my end? How exactly are we luring this demon out?"

"Hm? Oh I'll fill you in on your part tomorrow; tonight I have to set up some warding sigils around town if we have any hope of luring Lazarus into reality."

Dipper choked. "I'm bait to bring your demon rival into reality?! How are you supposed to banish him when he's walking the Earth?"

"Kid, use your head. I'll be in reality too, he isn't going to endanger your little town-"

"Wait, you're going to be in reality too? But- but how?" Panic was swelling in his throat. What had he just agreed to?

"Easy, Pine Tree. I'll have a body."

/

That night he woke in cold sweats, heaving in air into his staved lungs. Choking on the sweet, musky night air that taste of a mixture of dread and salvation, he tossed off the damp blanket and slouched over the edge to fall off his bed, landing on his abused chest and letting out a whine. He was in so much pain. Why didn't the charm work?

One hand held against his second rib, feeling the warmth of blood from beneath the thin skin of his shirt while the other hand reached on top of his nightstand, grasping at the charm to confirm it was there. Oh god. Why wasn't it working.

He sobbed, chest wet with blood and cheeks wet with tears. Bill was wrong. The charm did nothing, and now he'll never be able to sleep again. Not with a goddamn monster trying to choke him.

Struggling to his feet, he evened his breathing, despite his body still wrecked with shivers and ribs smarting with splintered flesh, gashed and exposed to the world.

Leaning on the nightstand, he cleared his head. He was awake now. No harm will come to him while he's awake. He can bandage himself up, clean up the bed, and carry on away from this because the attack was over.

Just as the tears stop falling and his breathing was no longer labored, he sighed in relief. He was going to be okay.

That was, until, he heard ticking start up from inside his nightstand.


	2. Pity Party

Along the bridge of his second to last rib etched into reddening flesh, three gashes raked no less than four inches down his abdomen. Even standing with his shirt discarded before his bathroom mirror, he could see the first two gashes being deeper than the last, due to the aggressing hand at fault being human like. If humans were hot to the touch without a drop of sweat. If humans had elongated nails, reinforced thick like a canine's and just as sharp. If humans haunted dreams as a black figure, jumping its victims to mar their chest.

Even in the safety of his closed bathroom, he knew the pocket watch was ticking when he left, and shall resume as long as it takes for him to return. Thus, even when wrapping paper-thin gauze around the cage of his ribs (since it was either that or wasting fifteen two-inch bandages), he made a firm choice that he wasn't going back into that room tonight. And he wasn't exactly sure how to explain the whole pocket watch issue to Bill, since he omitted that detail in case the watch turned out to be more than a cursed object. If nymphs were stashing it in the safety of some isolated forest, it must have some level of significance or power that Bill would be itching to get his hands on. Why else would the nymphs be giving him this much trouble over it?

Groaning over his own harsh hands pressing the gauze against his wounds, Dipper fumbled for some medical tape from the first aid kit before him. What he retrieved was cheap and simple, but at least it wouldn't be visible through his shirt. He was mildly okay with Bill knowing, less with Mabel, and not at all with Stan or Soos. Ideally, he wanted nobody getting dragged into all this nymph business and getting hurt on his behalf. Except for Bill, because he was the one trapping him in a 'you-help-me-with-my-supernatural-problem-and-I'll-help-you-with-yours' deal.

Once the wound was bandaged properly, Dipper gave a soft twist of his torso to test its durability only for a stabbing pain to race through his skin and split at his gashes, breaking the turn halfway and forcing him to catch himself with two hands on the sink. This was going to be tough, at least while the wounds were fresh. God he couldn't wait for the blood to dry so they wouldn't be so open and... raw.

Picking up his t-shirt and throwing it over his head, he strolled out from the bathroom as casually as one can at three in the morning, before pacing downstairs and nearly slipping at the thin line of salt Mabel had place at the bottom.

Although he had come back from the forest empty handed with a bucket full of excuses about bees preventing him from getting any ingredients, that didn't stop his sister from giving him a handful of very specific anti-Cipher wards. Most guarded his mind and dreams, but there were a handful of runes and safeguards littering the home to protect the shack itself. Crashing down on the couch, tensing his body enough to prevent his newfound scratches from protesting, the sore teen curled up against the biggest sofa pillow while contemplating his next logical move. The wards against Bill presumingly worked, but Dipper couldn't wrap his head around why the wooden charm the demon gave him didn't. It's not like he would just completely fall through on his side and give Dipper a dud; if he doesn't hold up his end then Dipper would owe him nothing back, and everything would be completely pointless.

The teen bit his lip at the idea of everything being for nothing. He's avoided Bill for so long because he knew just how tempting an all-knowing and omnipotent entity is for his curious mind. It's like keeping a mouse from stealing the cheese off a trap; it's too tempting and that mouse is going to end up dead whether he likes it or not.

Yet despite the devious demon snagging him into a deal, there was an odd trust Dipper felt about it. Perhaps because they were mutually aiding one another's supernatural issue, or perhaps because Dipper was older and Bill knew he couldn't pull a trick over his head so easily. For once, the demon actually had his moments of genuine conversation with Dipper. He told him information about nymphs that would've taken the teen months to find; and besides the barrier of the initial deal, Bill gave information freely. As long as it regarded Dipper's situation, he was eager to elaborate. Even when the details were a tad on the self-destructive side, giving information that Dipper could use against him if he wished. Such as telling him how he'll have a body. His very own body, to walk around in reality and interact with the world directly, with minimum (but still present) powers of the Mindscape.

The teen shivered and curled into the couch the more he thought about it, with his scratches giving slight aches whilst doing so. Bill having a body. Being in reality. It was such an uneasy idea, yet part of him looked forward to it. Communication would be easier, and trapping Bill's demonic rival wouldn't require Dipper entering the dangerous Mindscape. And while Bill told him about the idea yesterday, Dipper had initially thought it was going to be some type possession, yet that presumption turned out false.

Upon explanation, the idea began to seem clearer and clearer. Bill wouldn't be stealing anyone's body, since he wouldn't have any of his powers to stop his rival. And he wasn't going to restart the apocalypse he did all those years ago either, since that would allow his adversary the extent of his own full powers as well. Thus, the best way was to create a body the physical world would accept, because sadly transferring between dimensions is both dangerous and extremely difficult to do unless one tears a rift in it. Rather, he's been crafting a body in the Mindscape, and all it would take is a push into reality for it to fabricate. Apparently, the real issue for Bill was getting the body to actually fabricate on a safe place on Earth, because all of his attempts this last year (why he's been trying to get a body for a whole year, Dipper didn't ask) has only landed in the ocean. Getting it to generate somewhere on the Earth's surface rather than somewhere random in the atmosphere wasn't hard, apparently, because something about 'gravity being a tangible object' there made it simple. Getting it in specific places was a whole other issue, and one he intended on enlisting Dipper's help in.

Yet the teen wasn't exactly eager to help until he gets an explanation to why the charm wasn't working. Sure the info on nymphs was great, but getting vividly attack in dreams wasn't worth it. He needs Bill to stop them himself if it takes, because if he's giving that demon a clear path onto the physical Earth, than the pay-off has to be more than a worthless charm.

Lucky for Dipper, they're meeting up in the forest later today.

/

Before a mess of five mythology books, sprawled opened on random pages and haphazardly stuffed with dozens of tabs sticking out everywhere, was a very tired Dipper Pines. So tired, in fact, that he neglected to notice his sister entering the room, coming to look over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised.

"Mythology nymphs? Why are you reading about nymphs?" He heard her muse from over his shoulder, instinctually leading him to slam his current book shut so fast he forgot to look casual about it.

"T-the Greeks had a lot of deities, I was thinking perhaps one of them could be Bill." He sputtered out, using the Ancient Greek's polytheism to justify the various books of myths and legends before him. It was a convenient excuse, not to mention a poor one, but she seemed to have just gave him an odd look before turning around to pour a cup of coffee. He had made it hours ago, so the cool temperature might have been suspicious, but it looked like she was still trying to wrap her head around the whole nymph issue.

Nevertheless, she popped her mug into the microwave and turned it on, pivoting around to face Dipper while she waited.

"Any more nightmares last night?" Her voice was cautious, not to turn the atmosphere sour so soon.

"U-uhh.." He wasn't sure how much he could tell her, because if he says the nightmares are worse she'll question why the wards weren't working. And if he says they're better, she'll question why he's still researching for spells and tomes against Bill. "I-I kinda did, but they were vague. Less intense, dream-wise," he nervously began. In seconds her eyes were widen in distress.

"Oh, Dipper I'm sorry the wards didn't work!" Her exclamation startled him, as she rushed forward so fast to embrace him that there wasn't any processing time for him to stifle the pained squeak as her arms squeezed around his chest. And just as soon as she hugged him, she broke the embrace with a dreaded film over her eyes. He immediately looked to the floor, but he knew she must've seen the fear coiled in his eyes. She must've, or else she wouldn't do what she did next.

"Sorry, I'm just a little sore-" but before his excuse could make it past his lips, her hands grabbed onto the hem of Dipper's shirt, cause him to counter her by grasping her wrists and holding them down from pulling his shirt up.

She gave him a pained look, sympathy pooling around her pupils. "Dipper, I felt something through your shirt," goddamn those cheap bandages, "and you can't keep that from me. Please, just pull up your shirt and show me I'm crazy and didn't hear you in pain just now."

There wasn't any room for ease in the atmosphere. No conversation, no explanations... Not if it's her twin's health at risk. And while it stirred some comfort in his rattled body to know she wished to help, he couldn't let her. With Bill, and demons, and evil nymphs running amuck, he really couldn't afford her safety. So he was going to have to keep her out, and until further notice, all she has to know is that this is Bill's doing.

"Mabel, I'm fine now," he began, swallowing a bit of his integrity as he explained, "Bill must've been upset that you warded against him, because he didn't go out without a fight..."

With that, he hands loosen around her wrists, and slowly dropped to his side. She looked up, eyes slightly watered with premature pain over her twin. This time, he met her eyes with as much strength as possible to keep the lie from falling apart. After a slight nod of consent from her twin, Mabel slowly raised his shirt, exposing the wrapped wounds just barely staining through the bandages. She gasped, as if the worst had come true before her eyes, earning a wince from Dipper.

"It's not as bad as it looks, it barely penetrated the skin," he fibbed.

"Dip, this is a lot of blood" she pressed, not buying what he was selling. While it was true that they were deeper than he was leading on, it wasn't major enough to require medical aid or anything. He only wished it didn't look so bad.

"That's my fault, I keep irritating and reopening them," he began to sputter when she pulled his shirt higher, yet when she saw his skin untouched save for a few bruises, she uneasily let go of the hem, allowing the loose t-shirt to fall unceremoniously back down. She eyed him, and all the sorrow faded into protection. Dipper started feeling bad for using Bill as his scapegoat.

"I'd kill that triangle demon if I ever see him." She growled, making her twin sweat.

"I-I wouldn't focus on that now, I'm mean what's done is done." He was trying desperately to take the subject away from Bill.

She sighed. "You're right, I can focus on killing Bill later. But for now, I have to get to the store to get you," she softly poked him in his stomach, carefully avoiding the wounds, "some proper bandages and gauze."

He couldn't help but smile, "yeah, I think getting out might do me some good."

"Who said anything about you getting out? You need rest, because there's no way you had a good night's sleep last night." Already she had taken her coffee out of the microwave, downing it without any of her usual sugars and creams, whilst searching the kitchen for their grunkle's car keys.

Although the teen knew he wouldn't be sleeping while she was out, he gave a disgruntled agreement, since he had business to attend to while she's away. He already had arranged to meet the dream demon at the preserved untouched altar from yesterday at noon (or according to the demon, "sun high" because time is fake or something like that), so that they can discuss Dipper's side of the deal.

Ideally, Mabel will be out awhile, because Bill and him are going to have a lot to talk about. Succeeding in finding the keys in one of the many kitchen drawers, Mabel gave her twin the softest hug possible, as if his rib cage was made of porcelain, before hurrying out to the car.

Her rush was a bit surprising, what with her leaving in her pajamas, but it only encouraged Dipper to get up off the table and get ready himself.

He hadn't wanted to go back into his room, despite it seeming quiet from the outside. Thus, he only threw on one of Mabel's sweaters over his t-shirt, and kept his pajama pants, matching his twin's fashion choice this morning.

After throwing on his cap and stuffing the worthless wooden leaf charm into his pocket, he downed his own cup of coffee that had far become cold, and made it out of the shack towards the forest clearing.

/

It didn't take much more than actually showing up to Bill's summoning sigil to initiate the meeting. Although it wasn't quite noon, the sun was high enough in the sky for the world to begin its gloomy slip into the Mindscape.

It was blurry in doing so, probably since this time around wasn't induced via summoning. The greens glinted out of focus against messy cobalt smears pinching through the holes left behind by the layer of trees's outstretched branches above him, doting the ground with speckles of light slowly losing their warm yellowish tinge of solar radiance.

"Kid, you must be eager to see me again. You're here pretty early." Dipper off-guardedly whipped around when he heard the lighthearted voice of the fabricated dream demon behind him. He stifled a noise of surprise in exchange for a dirty look at Bill, whom paid no care to his irritation and only chuckled. "Yesh, didn't know you startle so easy."

"I'm not startled. Just tired." He only huffed back.

"Tired? Didn't get to catch up on the sleep you missed the other day?" The demon mused as if this was any other conversation, slightly twisting a lock of Dipper's messy hair before being batted away. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were too excited to see me again to sleep. What with you showing up here all early-"

"Stop it, Bill" the teen carelessly cut off the demon, unwavered by the chance he had to have just angered an omnipotent entity. Said entity just floating there, silently assessing what could've possibly ticked the teen off.

"What gives? Your charm didn't work!" Hustling out the wooden trinket from his pocket, Dipper haphazardly tossed it at the demon, who, rather than catch it froze it in the air with a halo of azure magic hovering around it. Dipper couldn't stifle the feeling like he did it on purpose to show who he's messing with.

"Are you saying the blood-tainted carving from the first tree of the mother-woods to all forest nymphs didn't work?" The demon reasoned back, edging more on a matter-of-fact tone rather than an irritated one.

"Yes!- either that or it does a pretty awful job of stopping whatever these nymphs are doing to me!" Almost in a relieved manner, Bill held in a chuckle, "Oh, Pine Tree, if they're still infecting your dreams, then I could always go in myself and take a look."

Dipper immediately backed down. He wasn't having Bill in him ever again, not by possession nor manipulation nor even dreams. Almost cringing at the suggestion, the teen barely choked out, "Absolutely not! I'm not having two different monsters in my dreams!"

That only earned a sigh from the demon, to whom was surprisingly considerate of Dipper's wishes. Come to think of it, he's been incredibly even-tempered and tolerant of Dipper's outbursts at him, while still holding that his wishes are taken account of. It almost seemed unnatural for the demon's nature.

"Fair enough. If that's your desire, then we can just deal with the nymphs in person," Bill offered calmly, despite just being called a monster. It almost made the teen feel a little bad for his attitude, but then he remembered his chest. Anyone with flesh as marred as his currently was shouldn't be expected to be in the greatest of moods. Yet Bill hadn't even seen the wounds from last night, yet he was still so calm. Dipper couldn't even fathom what his game plan must be.

"Right now..?" His voice did a poor job at mirroring the same level of calmness.

"Well, no, sadly not now. They're physical beings, so I'd need my body first... Not to mention, we'd have to keep you out of the forest so they don't try and seed anymore energy into you," when he finished his sentence, the demon added a lighthearted poke to the teen, unknowingly rousing a trickle of pain down his rib cage followed by a sharp inhale that did not go unnoticed.

The demon gave the most blank stare, the closest thing to being startled Dipper has ever seen him. "Kid? You okay there?"

"Y-yeah, I'm great... Just still a little beat up from last night," the teen sputtered, actively telling himself to not rub his side. He could have sworn there was a low growl by the demon at that.

"Are you telling me they actually hurt you again?" Poorly suppressed anger swelled under the demon's voice.

The teen sighed as the pain began to fade into skin irritation around the site, bringing him to ruffle his twin's borrowed sweater and pull it down, maximizing the space of the air between his wounds and the fabric. "Of course! The charm did nothing, if anything it just pissed him off more."

The demon's eye narrowed. "Show me what he did."

"What? No, you can use your imagination just fine." The teen scoffed back, noticing the protest evident in Bill's eye.

"Pine Tree, I didn't mean for this to happen again. My job was to help you, so let me help." The unexpected attitude Bill was taking towards this threw Dipper off-guard, and without even noticing, the teen soften his voice when he spoke back.

"Look, I know you didn't do this on purpose. It did cross my mind that you'd given me a dud charm, but you seem pretty serious about this deal," the teen began, seeing a visible ease as the demon floated closer to him, "but I'm fine, and the sooner we see these nymphs, the sooner all this will stop being a problem."

Any protest that was racing through the demon died at that, complying surprisingly well. "We could see them in a few weeks. Just let me get my body here into the real world, and I'll take care of this mess."

"A few weeks? It only takes that long to push a body into the physical world?"

A slight chuckle revealed that the demon was letting the tense mood slip away, much to Dipper's relief. "Actually, I can push it into your dimension anytime I want in mere seconds. The few weeks are for adjustment and calibration; I don't often use longterm vessels."

With that, the teen couldn't stop his own laughter. "You can break the law of conservation of mass, yet you can't immediately adjust to a body?"

The demon elaborated a bit, "Your human bodies are hard to operate without breaking, Pine Tree," he reached over and played with a lock of the teen's hair as before, "I mean, it's a living component comprised of non-living atoms. That's like combining two puzzle pieces, whom together, suddenly stands up and walks away as a sentient being."

The perspective was obvious but unconventional, as well as a bit more complicated than the demon's puzzle analogy. But it made fair enough sense, as when Bill had possessed him he had neglected procedures such as walking down the stairs, in favor to falling. Perhaps, maybe the operation was just unnecessary to put thought into when he didn't mind damaging the body.

"So how exactly are we going to bring this body here without it landing in the ocean?" Dipper finally asked, breaking his own train of thought.

"That's the fun part. Ever heard of triangulation?"

The teen nodded with a slight frown, confused why triangulation would be needed at all when the body wasn't here yet.

"It's like that in reverse. Three sigils have to be set up with angle and distance specifications, about a mile or so away from one another. Then, when my body is fabricated, it will be exactly where I want it to be."

The explanation made enough sense, and in fact it made Dipper feel a tad safer hearing that there was some sort of logic and method to what would seem like to most people as black magic. "That should be easy. Do you want me to do them today...?"

"Of course not, Pine Tree. You're not even in proper clothes! There's no way you're going to be running around town making perfect sigils with your sleep deprivation." Although the demon tried to hide it, Dipper knew that Bill just wanted him to rest today. They both knew the teen could have them done in a few hours, sleep deprived or not. It brought ease to the whole weight of the situation knowing he was looking out for his health.

"Yeah, I get it. I'd probably need the time to sleep anyways, even if it's just an hour or so of it." Despite his calm demeanor, a chill raced down the teen's spine just thinking of seeing the dark monster in his dreams again. Although he said it, he didn't actually plan on sleeping.

"Hey, kid, I know you don't want me in your head and all, but if it helps just for some time, I could put your dreaming consciousness under my jurisdiction when you sleep today," Bill cautiously offered, only elaborating after seeing Dipper not have an immediate rejection to the idea. "I won't be in your dreams, I promise you that. Yet it will directly stop any other supernatural from manipulating you in your sleep."

Hearing that, a smile barely made its way onto the teen's face, earning a sigh from the demon that the plan would work. In a quick motion, the teen knocked his hat off when his hand swept back his bangs in a sigh of relief. Bill took this moment to float the charm back towards him, before vanishing the mist of azure magic around it to land it into Dipper's hands.

"Keep this in the meantime. Since I got the demon traps set up and ready around town, I could waste some time making sure nothing bothers you, kid." The demon offered, feeling a spread of ethereal bliss to the prospect of watching over the teen. Yet he cut the feeling off prematurely; he was doing this out of business only. Business only, and yet the demon himself wasn't sure why he was so enthusiastic to make Dipper happy with his side.

"You'd be watching me in my sleep?" The demon was a bit too distracted to notice the kid's eyes grew in worry. Yet he didn't protest; rather wanted assurance.

"Don't worry, only in the physical world. I won't be spying on your dreams or nothing, Pine Tree," he assured with a ruff of the teen's hair, who only slightly protested with a weak swat of his hand.

"Hey...hey! Knock that off. How about you mess with my hair AFTER this nymph-business is over?"

Bill chuckled. "Whatever works, Pine Tree. Here, take this-" hastily he reached for the teen's wrist, and before Dipper could yank back in surprise, Bill's palm met the top of his hand with a ripple of painless cyan sparks.

By the time his hand was away, cradled in the other in shock, Bill had floated back away. Examining his hand for any abnormalities, Dipper found it was perfectly normal... Save for Cipher's triangular sigil complete with a ring of some ancient incantation looping around like an ourobous. He rubbed it, half expecting it to hurt like a tattoo or smear off like pen ink, but it did neither. He gave a wince.

"Please tell me this isn't permanent. Mabel's gonna kill me..." He huffed, knowing who his sister would be accusing as soon as she saw that triangle symbol on him. Yet the demon only brushed the notion off.

"It'll last as long as our deal; don't sweat it, Pine Tree. It also doubles as a summoning sigil so you don't have to keep coming out here; all you got to do is trace the triangle," he waited for the teen to eye the marking, then slowly run his two fingers along the lines to check. "Perfect, just like that. Well, try doing it after you wake up, then we'll talk and see if the nymphs are finally out of the way. Fine with you, kid?"

Dipper gave a slight nod, still a bit worried about falling asleep and a tad weirded out Bill would be watching him sleep while doing so, but at this point, whatever works he'll be willing to try.

Satisfied with his own accommodations, Bill beamed just before raising a hand to snap the Mindscape away, just before the teen barely cut in.

"Bill... Thank you."

The teen was sincere as he looked up at the demon, awaiting some response to his genuine gratitude. Yet the demon only returned a confused look, unsure how he should even respond to the sincerity he's never before seen in Dipper, and couldn't help that ethereal bliss warming up inside him again.

But almost as immediately as it was there, he snapped his fingers, melting the Mindscape from Dipper and leaving him alone in the forest.

/

Not a clue to how makeup work, Dipper generously glopped on Mabel's liquid foundation and haphazardly smeared it into the top of his hand, careful not accidentally trace the triangle in doing so. With an untrained eye glancing over the line of brushes and sponges before him, he elected a blunt square to mix the goop into his skin, honestly shocked to how well it covered up the marking on his hand.

Smoothing the harsher lines into normality, he set the sponge down and examined his work, following where the sigil should be with his eyes and seeing not a single area where it tinged through. Satisfied with his mission, he hurriedly arranged Mabel's makeup back in the order he though it originated from, before leaving the room with speed in his step to get back in his place on the couch.

No less than ten minutes of nervously shifting on the couch with a random book in his hand to fain he's been reading this whole time, Mabel nearly burst through the door, several grocery bags in hand. So much for just getting bandages.

"Sorry I took so long, Dip! There was a TON of stuff they had and I realized you could use some cheering up so I got these!" Before she finished (and before Dipper could set down his decoy book) a pile of snacks, movies, crafts, and a pair of fluffy blue slippers came down on his lap, burying both of his hands alongside his book.

Shuffling his hands free, he grabbed the nearest item, being a box of buttery popcorn bags. He turned back to his twin, who had fished out his book and tossed it aside. "Thanks, Mabel, but you didn't have to get all this..." He got up, shifting the hill of treats as he moved.

Her arms wrapped to his side to help him up, but he shooed her off. He knew she was trying to overcompensate; the physical injuries weren't the issue, but the psychological fear of relaxing into sleep was. If only he could tell her he could fix the problem on his own, if enlisting the help of a demon counted.

"Yeah, but you need it. I'll take over your shift today, don't worry about working. Just relax and try to get more sleep; I know you weren't sleeping with that book in your face." He smiled at the combined relief that he would get to sleep, and that his decoy book was believable. Sitting up on the couch, Mabel joined him to his injured side and began rolling up his shirt as gentle as a nurse would. In the meantime he fetched the gauze wrapping she bought and began tearing away at the plastic encasing it.

"Promise me you'll try alright? I will be a few rooms over if Bill comes back. Hell, I'll shut down the shop if he dares come back, and watch you sleep myself." She fervently went, taking the bandages he unwrapped for her to set aside.

"Seriously, I feel good about sleeping now," he lied convincingly. Sleep scared him to death, but knowing he had an otherworldly protector watching him through invisible eyes right now was comforting enough that he believe he'll be able to do it. Remembering Bill watching then made him wince, knowing he'll have to explain to the demon later that he used him as a scapegoat for this ordeal to Mabel.

Mistaking the wince as her fault with her hands at the brim of his poor quality bandages on the side of his ribs, she immediately retracted her touch. "No- no, sorry, that wasn't you," he murmured with embarrassment, and her hands met the bandages again with faltering confidence making her touch even more gentle than before. He bit his lip as the wrappings were pealed back from his flesh.

"I'll tell Stan you're ill with something. Unless you want him to know what's going on...?" The bandages came fully off, and the skin untouched since the night of terror was exposed to the air, encrusted with a mask of darken blood. He hissed at the exposure, and she hissed at the reminder.

"Don't, I intend on fixing this long before he has to know," he broke in to take her eyes off the agitating gashes.

"You fixing?" She inquired with her hands reaching for the fresh gauze wrappings, unraveling it against his skin.

"Sorry- we fixing. I'm... I'm just tired."

She huffed as the she wrapped around the barrel of his chest. "I could imagine."

Satisfied with the layer of safety she fashioned over his wounds, she tore the ends and taped it off.

"Now: no more books, stress, or coffee. Stick to these and junk food," she said, reaching for one of the movies as he pulled her borrowed sweater back down his torso. Flinging it onto his lap, he turned it over - it was a dumb teenage movie.

"Seriously? I rather read the encyclopedia than watch this boring drabble." He scoffed, as she crossed her arms.

"Good. I got it so you'll fall asleep," she beamed, causing a chuckle from her twin.

"Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard." By the time he set the dvd back down, she was already at the doorway, ready to leave.

"You'll be fine, bro bro. I'll be in the shop," she concluded as she took in the scene to see if anything else needed her intervention. Her twin merely sat there, transferring all of the goodies to the end table before getting up and popping in the movie. Once he was settled back on the couch, with a blanket snuggled up under his chin, she gave a smile.

"You have nothing to worry about, Dip." She concluded before leaving, and at that Dipper almost felt fearless.

/

No warmth. No water. Yet he still felt the burning presence of the monster lurking around and he still heard a distant waterfall cascading some yards away. Mist barely kissed his overheated skin to confirm that there was indeed falling water. From where, he didn't know- the ground below him was most defiantly wood.

No light split the horizon for him to run to. No comfort being stalked in this darkness. Yet he still balled up on the floor, eyes squeezed shut and anxiety thickening his blood with fear. Oh god he's here. Oh god why wasn't it working. _Oh god why did he fall asleep why did he-_

There was a growl.

Behind him, no more than a few feet, he heard the haunting growl of the monster, huffing hot suffocating air onto his neck, scaring him forward to scamper away on his hands and knees.

But before he even made it a few feet, that abusing clawed hand grasped the back of his calf, yanking aggressively and bringing the traumatized teen down on his face, smacking his nose on the wooden floor as he was pulled back towards the monster. Instinctually, his hands went up to cup his nose, of which began to trickle blood onto his upper lip, as he was roughly turned onto his back to meet the impossibly dark creature.

Kicking before the creature descended on him, he felt the bare, singeing hot flesh of the entity under his naked feet where it made contact with its chest. Twisting onto his stomach whilst the monster groaned, distracted with its own pain, Dipper pushed off his hands to stand up.

Yet the second his bloody hands meant the smooth wood to push, they slipped from under him.

His wounded side took the blunt of the resulting impact, smashing into the floor as he curled into a fetal position. Lightning bolts of pain ricocheted inside of his body, and he couldn't help but sob. Everything hurt. _It hurt and hurt and hurt and-_

The monster was up again.

Looming. The pain bit into him.

It was coming closer. He wasn't sure if he was crying from fear or pain.

It was above him, descending its hands onto him. He was whimpering pleads of mercy, mindless names brushed through his lips. _Mabel. Stan. Mom. Dad. Wendy. Soos._

 _... Bill._

 _Don't kill me, it hurts, the pain, get away-_

It's hands were on his chest, clinging to the damp sweater soaked with his sweat and blood from his nose. It lifted him up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, held off the ground before the monster.

A moment went by. Then two. Was it going to attack? He still felt the clawed hands digging onto his sweater.

The waterfall stopped, it was quiet save for the monster's low huffs and Dippers weak sobs for air.

Then a loud click bang around in his head, short but strong, and followed only by another click. Then another. Then another.

The ticking had started.

He screamed as those cruel hands snaked around his neck, pressing along the bruising until he was choking out those vain cries of help to a muffle.

"Dip...per...Pines..."

The voice was as icy as its breath was hot. It knew him. Why did he fall asleep? _It hurts and it hurts, stop it, the ticking's too loud, where's Mabel, why won't it let go, stop please, where's Bill I want Bill, Bill was supposed to stop this_ -

The teen was screaming when he awoke, blood still freely falling from his nose and over himself, as he tried to sit up on the ruined sheets. The room was hot. His forehead was damp. Reality wasn't comforting.

Especially because the monster was still there, sitting on his chest, holding him back down. Those malicious hands slipped off his throat, just barely letting the teen breath and his eyes flickered around what was most defiantly his living room, as they fell to his waist and began to push up the hem of his borrowed sweater. Dipper couldn't move; paralyzed just as before, yet his eyes still watered and streamed hot tears down his cheek, with his throat burning to scream but failing to make a noise.

There was a cooing groan, as the black entity pushed up the edge of his shirt with hands wandering to freely to mean well, and stopped above the wrapping of his bandaged chest. Just as their nails broke into his flesh once more, slowly beginning to drag downward, it vanished, along with Dipper's paralysis. Yet his shirt was still hiked up his torso, and his body was still marked with the new wounds.

Nobody was there.

Choking, still hoarse with a faint burn in his throat, Dipper sobbed as he sat up, pleading for comfort under a few more cries of pain before realizing Mabel was a few rooms over.

Mabel and Stan. All it took was stumbling through the shop's conjoining door for someone to be there for him.

Staggering up, pressing the back of his arm to his nose, he found the blood had begun to smear the makeup on his hand, exposing the faint outline of the Cipher sigil. He took his arm away fast, leaning against the wall to examine the mark.

Should he trace it and summon Bill when Mabel's in the other room? He didn't want to explain to Mabel Bill was never the problem. He didn't want to admit he lied. Sucking back his breath to compose himself, Dipper wasn't sure if his current state was... Presentable, to the demon at the moment. But he rather not have Mabel look at him with those heartbroken eyes and think she failed at protecting him.

Before he knew it, he lost the composure he intended to fain and rubbed the lines of the Cipher mark, smearing a triangle with the residue blood still there. When he finished tracing, he traced it again, and again. But nothing happen. The world was the same, and he was still stuck in the hot suffocating room with warm blood still streaming along his chin, splattering against his clothes, and staining the floor. He needed to breathe. The mark wasn't working.

Stumbling away, still using the wall as a crutch, Dipper made his way to the outside door, away from the shop. He need fresh air, he felt like he was going to pass out and it made him nauseous just thinking if the monster could get to him if he did.

Chaotically flinging open the door, he was met by cool air, causing the teen to bite back a sob and collapse onto his hands and knees, letting the pain rippling along his torso take its course. Oh god, it hurt.

The gashes felt reopened. His neck was surely purple-tinged. The new slashes burned cruelly. His nose was just barely starting to lighten its flow of blood, and he sat back so he could wipe it off his lower face.

No one was here.

He tried biting his lip to hold in another sob; weeping stung his sore throat. Looking down at his hand, he saw the sigil again, and gentle touched it with two fingers. For one final time, he traced it- not because he still hoped it would work, but because he was aching all over and the mere chance he wouldn't have to be alone was the only comfort he could fathom.

And despite all odds, when he finished a single trace, the whole world drained of color. It was so fast it hurt his eyes and gave a rush to his head; the Mindscape felt as if it had slammed down upon him.

"...Pine Tree?" He heard, thrusting his head up to see Bill Cipher, floating before him heartbrokenly confused. Dipper only gripped his blood soaked sweater, choking his cries to stop. He wasn't alone. Someone was here and he didn't have to be alone.

Just looking at the bloody, weeping teen collapsed before him told Cipher enough, and he knew that Dipper had been attacked once more without even asking. Assaulted once more, and Bill didn't stop it. It made his core ache thinking about it, thinking about how this was all his doing the teen was in so much pain.

"Pine Tree, I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen- What do you need!? I can't heal you... But I'll do anything you need me to…" The demon cried, hovering closer and reaching out to the teen. But Dipper didn't care if he was sorry. He only cared that someone was there. Whilst in the Mindscape he already knew couldn't be healed, yet Dipper knew he could be with someone. And that's why he met Bill's eye and stilled his voice enough to say, "Please... I-I just don't want to be alone."

Wiping his nose again at that, the teen gathered a fresh coat of blood on his hand. Dipper knew how broken and pathetic he looked. He also knew the demon had no reason to provide comfort; that wasn't part of the deal. So that is why he was bewildered when a mist of cyan magic ghosted Bill's triangular form, thickening and growing until it morphed into the shape of a standing being, tall and humanoid.

Diffusing, the blue magic cleared, revealing a Bill Cipher in a very much human form with an uncharacteristically pained expression, tracing his softened new golden eyes on the teen's broken form before him. And before Dipper could question why he was wearing his human form (the same one he was due to assumingly push into the physical world), Bill sank to his knees before Dipper and wrapped his arms around him softly, gentle to not agitated his injured body. Dipper was already sobbing into him without question, feeling the comfort and security of being in someone's arms too compelling to question. Blood was speckling the nice, formal vest the demon was sporting, but Bill didn't seem to mind, and if anything, only held Dipper closer.

"You're not alone, Pine Tree. I'm right here."


End file.
